The Maiden (The Cloister Trilogy 1)

I bite my lip to keep it from trembling as he meets my eyes again. His hunger is palpable, and I shiver knowing I’m the meal he desires most. I fear Grace and her punishments. But, as he stares down at me, I realize I fear him far more. There’s a darkness in him that seems to have no bottom.

“Last chance, little lamb.” He squeezes my wrists.

“Grace.” The dread in me comes out in the shape of that one word.

“Tell me what happened.” He relaxes his grip and slides his hands down my forearms.

Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch. “She pulled me out of class—”

“What was on the teaching schedule today?” He nuzzles my throat with his nose.

My face flames. “It was… They were, um…”

He laughs softly, darkly. “Yes?”

“A pee thing.”

“Watersports day so soon?” His dark hair tickles along my cheek. “The Spinners are starting early. So, did you get pissed o—”

“No.” I shake my head. “Grace called me out. So I went to her office.”

He tenses. “Then what?”

“She locked the door and asked me about you.”

“What about me?”

“About the mirror.”

“Ah.” His lips brush along my throat, and heat pools between my thighs.

“And you told her what?”

“Nothing. That’s why…”

“Why she hurt you.”

“Yes.” I let out a deep breath.

“Thank you for being honest with me, little lamb.” He eases off me and rests on his knees between my legs, he pulls my hand into his. “How badly broken?”

“At the knuckle, though Abigail says it should heal straight.”

“Good.” He lays it softly on the bed. Such a contradiction—one minute threatening and the next, gentle. “Then it shouldn’t hurt your chances any.”

“My chances?”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond, just runs his fingertips down my thighs, circles my knees, then back up. He pauses at my hip bones, stroking back and forth with his thumbs, his palm spread along my hips. “I’ll deal with Grace. She disobeyed me when she hurt you. I’ll make her pay. Now, where did you tell your mother you were going when you joined the Cloister?”

The question jolts me out of whatever spell his touching weaves. “My mother?”

“Where does she think you are?”

I swallow hard. Adam is dangerous, and the last thing I want is him anywhere near my mother. But why was he asking?

“Remember, little lamb. Trust.” He smooths his hands along my inner thighs and spreads me open wide. Completely exposed.

“I told my mom I was joining the Cloister for a year-long study program.”

“Did she have a problem with this?” His fingers trace the groove where my thighs meet my hips.

I gasp at the intimate touch. “She-she didn’t like it. Didn’t want me to do it.”

“Why?”

I can’t tell him the full truth about my mother. So I tell a half-truth, and hope that he doesn’t catch the deception. “She said it’s a cult. And dangerous.”

His fingers graze along my skin, igniting everything they touch. Catching my breath becomes difficult, and my nipples are so hard that they tingle and ache. “Right on both counts.” His smirk kinks something inside me, forcefully turning my fear into need.

“Why?” It’s the only word I can get out as his maddening fingers continue their circuit, stroking so close to my center. I bite my lip at the thought of him feeling my wetness, knowing how I react to him.

“I need you to do something for me.” He leans down, his breath whispering across my bare flesh.

I grip the blanket. “What?”

He inhales, and it’s as if something inside him clicks out of place, a record bouncing from its intended groove. “Do you have any idea how much I want to devour this needy cunt?”

A tremor rushes through me.

“I think about it sometimes. Today, when I was having lunch, I thought about how much I’d enjoy running my tongue along your wet slit and pushing inside you. Tasting every bit of you, sucking on your clit until you scream.”

Everything inside me spirals out of control, and for one desperate moment, I consider lifting my hips the slightest bit. Pressing myself to his mouth, giving him permission to do every wicked thing that comes to his mind.

“Does that bother you, Maiden? That I want to own your cunt and wear your taste on my lips for as long as it lasts?”

“Please…” I don’t know what I’m asking for.

“Please?” He blows on my clit, and my entire body shudders. “Please lick your cunt? Is that what you’re asking?”

Yes. No. My voice is frozen, trapped inside a maze of mixed emotions.

“I think you don’t want me to stop.” His dark eyes promise hell, oblivion, the sort of sin that will never wash off.

I’m teetering on the edge. One more warm breath from his lips will send me plummeting over.

A scream rips through the dorm, followed by a cry for help. Sarah’s voice. I snap out of the haze as Adam sits up. She’s still screaming, but her cries are muffled, and then a rhythmic banging adds to the sound.